


Did you kiss?

by JustSuperMione



Series: R/Hr canon missing moments [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSuperMione/pseuds/JustSuperMione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During OotP Ron and Hermione bet on Harry and Cho kissing... this is the tablespoon scene from Ron's POV. </p>
<p>“Did you kiss?” asked Hermione in a way that only she could.</p>
<p>Ron couldn’t believe she’d asked. He sat up quickly and looked seriously at Harry. This was important. If Harry snogged Cho, then he would snog Hermione tomorrow night. Hermione could become his girlfriend. He stared at Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did you kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> Harry comes back from the DA meeting having been kissed. The canon moment from Ron’s point of view: happens during JK Rowling’s Order of the Phoenix and Christmas Tradition Interrupted.

It was with an almost giddy excitement that Ron returned to the common room fire with his homework. The reason for his giddiness was simple. If Harry snogged Cho then he, Ron, would be spending tomorrow night snogging Hermione... she thought that snogging was a crass term. But for Ron, snogging Hermione was an excellent term for the passion that he felt whenever they were together like that. When he arrived back downstairs, Hermione had settled herself into her favourite chair. He paused for a moment and watched her writing. He doubted that she realised this: but she was beautiful. Her hair was wild and had many different hues in the firelight. The common room was almost empty and as he settled onto the hearthrug, an irritable image invaded his mind: Hermione joining him on the rug.

 

She threw him an innocent smile and continued to write. It was then that Ron decided that he wanted to ask Hermione to be his girlfriend. Ron marshalled his hormones and thoughts back to Transfiguration homework. He hadn’t gotten very far when Harry walked in looking dazed and happy. Ron recognised that smile. It was the same one he wore two years ago after he’d first snogged Hermione. Ron bit a smile back.

 

“What kept you?” Ron enquired as innocently as he could. Harry gaped at him looking conflicted; he collapsed into the armchair next to Hermione’s. Ron could relate to that look too. After he’d first snogged Hermione, he’s wanted to tell Harry because this was the biggest thing to ever happen to him. On the other hand, he was upset with her about Crookshanks and the Firebolt.

 

“Are you all right, Harry?” Hermione voice came from nowhere. Ron looked between her and Harry. It was clear that he was struggling for words: hormones were tricky that way. Harry was blankly staring.

 

“What’s up?” Ron asked knowing exactly what he was going to say, he hoisted himself up on his elbow so he could see Hermione as well as Harry. “What’s happened?” Harry looked unseeingly into the empty common room. Ron smiled at Hermione in an ‘I-told-you-so’ way. Her eyes narrowed – she hated to be beaten.

 

“Is it Cho?” she probed in a practical way so Harry had to tell her. “Did she corner you after the meeting?” This question surprised Ron: but what surprised him more was when Harry nodded. Ron couldn’t help it: he sniggered, until Hermione gave him a quelling look.

 

“So - er - what did she want?” he asked as seriously as possible but sure his amusement was sparkling through.

 

“She -” Harry started, obviously finding whatever happened difficult to put into words. Even two years after first kissing Hermione and after kissing her several times since: he still didn’t know how he would tell his best friend. To be honest, Harry looked as flummoxed as Ron felt.

 

“She - er -” Harry continued seeming to lose his train of thought.

 

“Did you kiss?” asked Hermione in a way that only she could.

 

Ron couldn’t believe she’d asked. He sat up quickly and looked seriously at Harry. This was important. If Harry snogged Cho, then he would snog Hermione tomorrow night. Hermione could become his girlfriend. He stared at Harry. 

 

 “Well?” he insisted both intrigued and amused by this turn of events. Hermione looked and him with a slight quell. Harry nodded. “HA!” He punched the air happily. Some second-years who were always hanging around started giggling. But Ron didn’t care, this was official. He had won his bet with Hermione. And as Hermione was oft to say ‘he was an awful winner’; he rolled around on the rug kicking his legs and moving his arms victoriously. Harry looked bemused but happy grin. Hermione gave Ron a look of deep antipathy; and to prevent herself from saying more... she when back to her writing.

 

_This is excellent_ , Ron thought to himself. Now he wanted details – not only because he was deeply interested in his friend’s experience; but because he wanted to rub it in.

 

“Well?” His attention turned to Harry again.  “How was it?” Harry paused: possibly thinking. Ron could give half a dozen off the cuff answers for describing kissing Hermione: passionate, intoxicating, soft, demanding, all consuming, warm...

 

“Wet,” Harry admitted. Ron wasn’t expecting that and was aware that he made some kind of noise. “Because she was crying,” he added.

 

“Oh,” Ron stopped, he hadn’t been aware that could happen: a thought struck him. “Are you that bad at kissing?”

 

“Dunno... Maybe I am!” Harry puzzled.

 

“Of course you’re not,” Hermione said vaguely, still writing away.

 

“How do you know?” he demanded, feeling something rise up in his belly. What if Hermione had kissed Harry?

 

“Because Cho spends half her time crying these days,” Hermione explained absentmindedly. “She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place,” she gave a sigh, like it was obvious. But to Ron it didn’t make sense.

 

“You’d think a bit of kissing would cheer her up,” stated Ron with a winning grin, trying to remind her of all the times they’d kissed. And how embracing and being passionate had cleared their emotions: when they were angry, sad or scared.

 

“Ron,” Hermione said in an imposing voice, continuing to write, “you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Ron annoyed. There were loads of times when he, Ron, had shown great sensitivity. Like when Harry was in the maze, when they were locked up in Grimmauld Place, and since becoming a prefect when the snotrags were in trouble. He was insulted. “What sort of person cries while someone’s kissing them?”

 

“Yeah, who does?” Harry asked desperately.

Hermione gave them the kind of humouring expressions that Ron always wanted to kiss off her face. Usually, he had clues as to what the right answer was but for this... he had nothing.

 

“Don’t you understand how Cho’s feeling at the moment?” she asked like it was obvious.

 

“No,” Ron heard himself say, and was encouraged by Harry’s echoing voice.

 

Patiently, Hermione sighed and laid down her quill. She looked at him in that unfathomable way.

 

“Well, obviously, she’s feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying.” Hermione patiently said like it was obvious. She turned her attention to Harry. “Then I expect she’s feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can’t work out who she likes best.” Her gaze trailed to Ron. “Then she’ll be feeling guilty, thinking it’s an insult to Cedric’s memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she’ll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can’t work out what her feelings towards Harry are,” She looked at Harry again, and it made Ron feel uneasy, “anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that’s all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she’s afraid she’s going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she’s been flying so badly.”

 

Then, Hermione stopped. And looked at them both obviously expecting this speech to have cleared everything up. But all it had done was leave him with more questions.

 

“One person can’t feel all that at once,” he mumbled quietly, looking into her eyes, “they’d explode.”

 

“Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon,” Hermione spitefully retorted picking up her quill again, “doesn’t mean we all have,” Ron was dumbstruck: _‘what was that spos to mean?’_ He wanted to reply. But before Ron could, Harry got defensive.

 

“She was the one who started it,” Harry stated, then his expression changed as he tried to explain it. “I wouldn’t’ve - she just sort of came at me - and next thing she’s crying all over me - I didn’t know what to do —”

 

“Don’t blame you, mate,” said Ron, alarmed at the very thought of trying to explain what had happened between him and Hermione.

 

“You just had to be nice to her,” Hermione said forcefully, and then she looked up anxiously. “You were, weren’t you?”

 

“Well,” replied a very uncomfortable Harry, “I sort of - patted her on the back a bit.”

 

Hermione gave a look of great restrain and glanced over at him. He rolled his eyes where Harry couldn’t see because even he, Ron, had done better when Hermione was upset. Last time, after the Cedric died and she was really scared; he had held her close, stroked her hair, kissed her temple and murmured words of great comfort.

 

“Well, I suppose it could have been worse,” Hermione said giving Ron a significant look that he doubted Harry noticed; and then she turned her attention to Harry. “Are you going to see her again?”

 

“I’ll have to, won’t I?” said Harry in a panicked way. “We’ve got D.A. meetings, haven’t we?”

 

“You know what I mean,” said Hermione impatiently, clearly reframing from stamping her foot.

 

Harry was silent and looked horrified and maybe like he was going to be sick. Ron looked from Harry to Hermione and smiled. He was trying to communicate to Hermione that this might mean something for them. But she didn’t get it She gave him an innocent and wonderful smile back; so he looked back at Harry and wiggled his eyebrows. She obviously didn’t get it. In return, she shook her head and concluded.

 

“Oh well,” Hermione distantly responded, buried in herself again in her writing,“you’ll have plenty of opportunities to ask her.”

 

“What if he doesn’t want to ask her?” Ron asked wanting to know what Hermione truly thought about their situation, wisely looking at Harry.

 

“Don’t be silly,” said Hermione in the vague voice that he loathed, “Harry’s liked her for ages, haven’t you, Harry?”

 

They were silent. Harry was obviously thinking about Cho because a small smile played on this face. Ron suddenly felt lost. He needed to talk to Hermione: to take her by the hand; soundly snog her and then talk to her... If he could only tear her away from, what he suddenly realised, was a letter. Curiosity overcame him and his gaze shifted to the parchment. He noticed his name, several times.

 

“Who’re you writing the novel to, anyway?” Ron asked, trying to think of all the people it could be.

 

“Viktor.” She said trying to be casual but shifting in her seat.

 

“Krum?” he replied, with a hint of anger.

 

“How many other Viktors do we know?” Her answer came back sarcastically. He gave her an equally sarcastically look in return. Hermione went back to her writing. Harry started staring into the fire looked to be considering something.

 

Ron couldn’t help it: even though he wanted to have it out with Hermione – they couldn’t break their promise to Harry. So, he went back to grappling with finishing the essay. He tried not to think about Krum but every now again... he lost focus wondering what Hermione had to say to the giant pumpkinhead. It was long before Hermione’s incredibly small writing had filled the parchment and she was standing to go to bed.

 

“Well, night,” Hermione yawned, what Ron really wanted to do was stop her talk to her.

 

A little while later, when Ron had had enough of fruitlessly writing, he and Harry went up to bed. But as they did so, couldn’t help but ask the question that had been haunting him since the Yule Ball.

 

“What does she see in Krum?” Ron inquired rhetorically as they climbed the stairs to bed.

 

 “Well,” started Harry, and Ron’s stomach dropped, “I s’pose he’s older, isn’t he… and he’s an international Quidditch player…” Harry trailed off noticing the look on his face.

 

“Yeah, but apart from that,” responded Ron thinking about Krum’s face throughout last year. “I mean, he’s a grouchy git, isn’t he?”

 

 

“Bit grouchy, yeah,” said Harry absentmindedly, clearly not thinking about Hermione and Krum. At least he hoped not. Harry’s face seemed dazed and happy: he reminded Ron of his own face when he’d first snogged Hermione.

 

Silently, they got ready for bed. Ron’s mind was running through all the way that Krum was a git. Even Hermione had once called him grumpy. But that was before he had stalked her in the library and taken her to the Yule Ball. Krum was easily cursed, couldn’t dance because he was so duckfooted and only made Hermione smile... whereas he had made her laugh afterwards. But what if that wasn’t enough? What if he wasn’t enough for Hermione? His heart sank.

 “Night,” he grunted feeling despondent. Punching his pillow hard like it was Krum’s pumpkin face.

 

“Night,” said Harry.

 

Ron closed his eyes and a memory surfaced. Hermione’s face, grinning in the corridor as he spun her around in his arm’s tonight. Her words echoed in his mind: We’ll kiss before the end of term,” she said slowly. “Say tomorrow night during prefect rounds...” Ron started to grin. In less than 24 hours he’d be snogging Hermione and he just might ask her to be his girlfriend. And with that he started to dwell on all the times he’d snogged Hermione – and with that he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This POV popped into my head and fell onto the page a few weeks ago. It is part of my R/Hr missing moment universe.


End file.
